The Closest Thing
by Poems For No One
Summary: Its the day of the wedding and Ian cannot bring himself to go. But he remembers everything about the boy who broke his heart...


Ian watched as Mandy tightened Lips tie up to his neck. Putting on his blazer and his nicest pair of jeans, Lip took one final look at himself before he and Mandy gathered the rest of their things.

"Sure you don't wanna come?" Mandy asked as she slipped on her heels.

"No I have to finish this Westpoint application" Ian lied, the Westpoint application had been done for almost a week now.

"Suit it yourself, it's not everyday someone gets married in this god forsaken neighborhood" Mandy held out her hand as if she were about to lead Lip down the stairs.

"One second alright, I'll meet you down there" Lips assured Mandy as she shrugged and walked away.

"You alright?" Lip asked Ian when he was positive it were alright to talk without Mandy or anyone else hearing. "You look... depressed"

"Yeah.. I'm fine.. Just go.. Have fun" Ian lied again, he was anything but alright or fine. He didn't want to answer any questions, especially not today.

"You know Ian.. He's not the only guy out there" Lip told him before walking out the room. Ian was aware of this, he had his fair share of guys - even since his breakup. He knew that there were thousands of gay guys in Chicago, but he only wanted one. Ian only wanted Mickey Milkovich; he wanted him more than he wanted to move on. A life without Mickey wasn't an option before, and now that it was Ian couldn't help but feel weak.

Ian watched from his window as his family left down the street. The whole god damn neighborhood was going to this wedding; everybody except Ian. Ian didn't know what to do with himself at this moment. He really wanted to go shoot something.. A coping mechanism that he had learned from Mickey. He didn't want to do anything that reminded him of the things that he and Mickey used to do together, he just wanted to forget.

He laid in his bed thinking of all the cool things that they used to do together. He remembered when Mickey kicked the shit out of an older man who Ian was casually seeing. He remembered running from the cops and laughing about it minutes later. He remembered how Mickey would let out smile when he thought Ian was looking. He especially remembered the last couple times they had sex and how it was more than just fucking. He remembered how Mickey's back would slightly bend as they moved together in perfect unison. Remembered every scar and scratch on Mickey's body, and the bandaged cheek from Mickey's last gun shot wound. Ian remembered everything so well.

An hour passed since Fiona and the others left for the wedding. Fiona promised they wouldn't be gone long as the wedding would probably turn into a white trash hoe down once the nuptials were finished. He decided to sit in his room and patiently wait for his family to return, though it didn't really matter if they came back sooner or later as Ian preferred to be alone at the time. Finally his phone vibrated in his pocket, not really caring who could be calling him he was slow to answer. It was just a text from Fiona.

"WEDDINGS RUNNING LATE, SOMETHING ABOUT THE PRIEST? CAN YOU START DINNER, WILL BE HOME SOON" - FI.

Of course the wedding wasn't going as planned. The priest probably wasn't even a priest! The priest was probably some drunk guy from a biker gang with a license to wed. Ian laughed at the idea because he knew all to well that something like that wasn't too far-fetched at all.

Ian went downstairs to start dinner. He grabbed the spaghetti Fiona had set aside and started to boil the water. He grabbed the thawed out ground beef from the fridge along with all the spices from the cupboard. He washed his hands and began to roll the beef into medium-sized balls before placing them a frying pan. He was so lost in thought he almost didn't recognize the already boiling water in front of him. Once he put in the spaghetti he lowered the heat of the stove, he was in no rush to finish the dinner because everyone would probably be a while.

He was so lost in his own thoughts he barely heard the front door open. It was most likely Frank who was drunk and got kicked out of the wedding. He was to upset to fight him, he would just let him come sleep wherever, Fiona could deal with him later. He was exhausted, but not from cooking. He was exhausted because he was cooking when he didn't want to do anything at all. He decided to go sit at the kitchen table and relax, relax before he had to go check on the food. He didn't even hear the heavy footsteps enter the kitchen when he zoned out staring at the blank kitchen wall.

"You would make a horrible housewife" The voice said. Ian quickly got up because he noticed the voice didn't belong to his drunk father. "Seriously, stoves on and what the fuck you doin'? Sleepin?" Ian couldn't believe what he was seeing as he watched Mickey scan the Kitchen. Mickey stood by the kitchen counter clean-shaven and wearing a tux he probably got from the salvation army.

"Mickey" Ian said as he tried to fathom what was going on

"Who did you expect. Fuckin' Santa Clause?"

"No its just that... I thought.. never mind."

"Thought I was getting married? I am" Mickey said nonchalantly as if it were no big deal.

"Then what are you doing here?" Ian asked in confusion.

"Someone roofied the priest. He's sleeping in some closet somewhere. It will be a good couple hours before someone finds him and he sobers up" Ian knew right away who that _someone_ was. He chose not to say anything, it didn't matter. Mickey was here now, and he was with Ian.

"I suggest we not waste anymore time.. before people start to get suspicious" Mickey nodded his head toward the stairs as if he wanted Ian to lead the way to his bedroom. Ian took the hint and quickly turned off the stove before leading Mickey upstairs.

The sex was amazing. It meant even more than ever because Mickey sabotaged his own wedding to be here with Ian - even if it meant it wouldn't last. Their bodies have never been more synchronized and fluid as they were that day. Mickey's back bended and Ian's body bended with it. Mickey's hands gripped the bed sheets and Ian watched as they crumpled into his fist. The sounds were like nothing Ian has ever heard before, they sounded of excitement and lust and need. Ian felt as if he couldn't hold it in any longer, but Mickey finished first. With one exasperated breath, he had let himself go underneath Ian and Ian knew he was next. One last push and Ian felt his knees buckle and a wave of pleasure rippled through his body. Ian pulled out of Mickey and sat on the edge of the bed. He could barely breathe and move so he just sat there and watched Mickey as he rolled onto his back and just lay there.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, but it was okay - There was nothing to be said. Ian was just happy to be there with Mickey in that moment. Ian lit a smoke, took a couple of drags before handing it over to Mickey.

"I should go" Mickey said as he got up and started to reassemble his clothes.

"You don't have to do this you know" Ian said almost as if he were pleading.

"You don't know what you're talking about Gallagher" Mickey said as if he was trying to reassure himself.

"I know that you love me. I know that if you didn't you wouldn't be here!"

"I told you before, the priest is fucked up in some closet somewhere - this was just an opportunity" Ian could hear the denial in his voice. Mickey was here, he couldn't pretend like he wasn't. Ian couldn't let him go, not like he had left the last time.

"I love you" Ian said pleading. Never taking his eyes off Mickey as he got dressed. "I love you, and you love me. Don't go, You don't have to!"

Mickey looked at him with the same pleading eyes as Ian " You don't know anything Ian" Ian.. Mickey didn't call him fire-crotch or Gallagher. Mickey had called him Ian. Mickey had turned around and headed downstairs, Ian was quick to follow.

Before Mickey could leave through the door Ian grabbed him and turned him so they could face each other. Without hesitation Ian kissed him. It wasn't a sexual kiss, there wasn't even tongue but Ian grabbed Mickey's face with both hands and pulled him in close. He knew kissing Mickey wasn't going to last, he had almost fully expected Mickey to push him off and run away. Instead Mickey let the kiss happen. When Ian had stopped he noticed Mickey's hands at his waist. Not wrapped around in a full embrace, but cupping his hip; slightly tugging on the fabric of Ian's shirt. Ian slid his hands down Mickey's arms and rested his forehead up against Mickey. They both stood there feeling each others warm breath against their skin. They stood like this for only a couple of seconds, but those seconds felt like a life time to Ian. He could stand like this forever if Mickey were to allow it.

As expected, Mickey pushed away and walked out of the house. He had only turned around once to look back at Ian, who stood in the doorway watching as Mickey disappeared down the street. When Mickey was out of sight, Ian went back into the kitchen to finish the cooking. He heard the door open again but this time it wasn't Mickey. It was Fiona and the rest of his siblings coming in throwing their jackets on the couch and taking off their shoes, complaining about what a waste of time it had been

"The priest was out of it. Can you believe it?" Fiona asked as she took over the kitchen.

As a matter of fact Ian could believe it. He let out a smile; a smile he hadn't had in a long time. A smile because he had already known the story before his family could tell him. Ian liked this story and he could hear tell it to himself over and over. The story of how Mickey sabotaged his own wedding to spend one last day with him. To Ian this is the closest thing to a happily ever after he would ever get with Mickey. But in the end, that's all he needed.


End file.
